


My Interrogator

by the_angry_pixie



Category: Filth (2012), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bruce being Bruce, Homophobia, Humor, M/M, Sexual Tension, interrogation room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_angry_pixie/pseuds/the_angry_pixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles gets arrested in Edinburgh. Bruce doesn't know why the fuck <i>he</i> has to be the one to interrogate this guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Interrogator

**Author's Note:**

> Warning - Just about everything that comes out of Bruce's mouth is offensive. But to be more specific; homophobia, racism, sexism, ableism and just about any other "ism" you can come up with. Also this occurs in a universe where Erik is not Charles' arch nemesis - but is more like a grumpy old man that hangs around the mansion and is very possessive of Charles.

The man across from me is a fucking pansy. A fucking pillow-biting, dick-sucking faggot and there ain’t naw question about it. What’s a vanilla nancy boy like him daeing in here? He better not be charged with anything, old queer spastics on the inside would eat him alive. Fuck him till he bled. What’s a faggot like him daeing getting into trouble anyway? He’s got the kind of face that’s just begging for a beating, just asking for someone to take him outside and show him the fucking facts ‘o’ life. I already pretty much hate him and all he’s daeing is fucking looking at me.

He’s got a pretty mouth on him though.

“Your name is Professor Charles Francis Xavier. Ah’m Detective Sergeant Bruce Robertson. Dae ya ken why you’re here Professor?”

\---

The man across from me looks a bit sickly to be honest. Or maybe like he’s only just recovering from last night’s bender. Beneath his eyes is the purple shadow of the sleep-deprived. His tie is loose and has what appears to be tinned spaghetti sauce spilled on it. And really, as someone who takes a bit of pride in my own hair, surely it wouldn’t kill this man to wash his. I’m sure it could be such a nice shade of brown. 

He looks irritable and tired and like he would really rather be somewhere else. Heh. Well that makes two of us ol’ chap.

He has a very distractingly attractive mouth though.

“Well Sergeant Robertson, no, I really can’t say I _do_ know why I’ve been brought here.”

\---

He’s looking at me with this shit-eating grin. English then eh? What’s this fucking pom daeing in Edinburgh fucking up my night? I could be doon the bar greasing up some whore for a good ol’ fashion fuck-fest in the back ‘o’ ma Volvo. I could be oot in the street knocking about some no-good junkie. Much better use of my polis time then interrogating this pommy faggot.

I pull the file that is sitting on the table in between us towards me and swing it around so I can look at it. Paper-clipped tae the front is the intake report. My eyes almost miss the little red ‘M’ stamped innocuously up in the right-hand corner. Mutant then eh? Fuck there might be mar tae this cocksucker than I first thought.

“It says here you were obstructing polis in carrying out thar duties outside the University ‘o’ Edinburgh.”

I look back up at Xavier and raise my eyebrow. I take in his delicate pale skin and doe-like eyes. Doesnae look like he could _obstruct_ a fucking fly.

He raises an eyebrow right back at me and clears his throat, tongue lashing out tae wet those pretty lips.

“Ah. Well. I was invited to give a talk at the International Mutant Rights Symposium at the university. A few of my, _supporters_ I guess you could call them, gathered outside. They may have gotten a bit over-zealous as I’m sure you understand young people are want to do _. I_ was only trying to calm the situation down. It was a _passive_ demonstration” he says, calm as you please, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

I snort as I continue tae read “Says here you immobilised several officers at the same time. Tha’ your mutant ability enables yer tae dae that. Officers who were only trying tae dae thar job in dispersing a number of aggressive activists. That doesnae sound very passive tae me.”

Xavier is frowning at me now, brows creasing above very blue eyes. They’re pretty. Like a lass’s. He should try growing a beard ah something. Maybe cutting that hair so it doesnae look so much like a poofs. But I guess that’s the point ay. Poofs gotta let other poofs ken their minged in the head and willing tae take it up the erse. He’s talking at me again. 

“I beg your pardon Sergeant Robertson but may I ask why _you_ are the one interrogating me? It seems like you don’t know very much about the events of this afternoon.”

The cheek. The fucking wee cheek. Oh he’s gaun tae pay for that one. Just you wait. Ah’ll make him regret fucking around with Sergeant Bruce fucking Robertson.

“No Mr Xavier. You may _not_ ask. Ah request that you stay on topic and answer my questions.”

Truth is, I dun ken why the fuck ah’ve been given this guy either. Lennox wouldnae say a fucking word when ah came in for the evening shift, just said tha’ this one’s fah me. That they had waited till I got in because they wanted tae see how I would handle him. Lennox’d been looking at me weirdly. Tell the truth the whole office had done an about-turn when ah had headed towards the interrogation room, it wasn’t just the ladies if you get what ah’m saying. Heh.

“Now dae yer want tae maybe tell me why you acted the way you did this afternoon outside the university?” I reiterate in my best Don’t-Fuck-With-Me-Ah-Can-Go-All-Night-Like-This voice.

That’s certainly got the queer looking a wee bit more defiant. Good. He better fucking believe who’s boss in this room. Suck mah polis bawls ya wee cunt. 

\---

My interrogator is a handsome man. Well, he _could_ be a handsome man if he found his way to a shower and a bed maybe. But it’s more than that. He has an air about him, a simmering confidence. An energy that seems like it is barely contained. Such intense blue eyes, I bet he gets comments about them all the time.  I can understand how he has come to be in the position of power he finds himself in. If he gave _me_ orders, I would probably fall into line too. My mind yearns to reach out and caress his but I withhold myself. I’m already in enough trouble as it is. I spare a thought to wonder who might be travelling in to collect me when all this nonsense is sorted out. It’s a stupid question really, I _know_ who’ll be coming.

So yes, my interrogator is attractive, I can admit that much, but right now he is beginning to peeve me. I put all of my effort into remaining calm and in control. This situation needs to be diffused as quickly and quietly as possible.

“You’re _officers_ were advancing with batons unsheathed. The young mutants outside the building were peacefully protesting. The only thing they could be accused of is maybe insulting the ears of any bigots in the nearby area…. also their chanting may have been a bit loud.”

That gets me the small smile that I had been hoping for. Amusement alights in those enchanting eyes for just a moment before cold impassivity returns. 

“And you think tha’ gives you the right tae exploit your ability?” the man across from me murmurs as he studies the documents in his hands further. I find myself wanting him to look at me. I want his attention on me, for him to be interested in _me_. “There are laws you ken for people like _you_ …” he continues before pausing to look up at me. I feel my pulse-rate quicken under his gaze. “ _Telepaths_ ” he clarifies in his rough tenor. Can he sense the nervous tension he is igniting within me? The air between us seems to be thick with it. I adjust my collar hoping it isn’t a dead giveaway as I realise I _like_ him acknowledging my mutation like that. 

The Sergeant snaps the folder shut and discards it on the table where it slides to lie against my folded hands. He continues, using that same low, husky tone that is probably meant to intimidate. “Taking away an individual’s free will is a very serious offense... dae you think yourself above the law Professor Xavier?”

But his intimidation technique is not working. The growl in his voice only makes me want to reach out and touch him more, not shy away. He’s looking at me fiercely and his lips are pursed in a rather distracting way. Even the breath he draws is slow and purposeful and pulls my focus.

“No” I gulp, cursing myself for momentarily succumbing to my stirrings of arousal. “No Sergeant Robertson. I don’t think myself above the law.”

\---

I dinnae like the way this mutey-cocksucker keeps saying my name. He’s saying it tha same way I might whisper tae some cunt late at night between the sheets when ah’m trying tae convince her tae put her mouth tae use on ma cock.

My pants begin tae tighten slightly with the thought ‘o’ it. Ah’m no faggot but maybe with Xavier’s mouth it wouldnae be half so bad. A mouths a mouth after all, and he has those fucking red lips. Ah bet he sucks cock like a champion. Yer cannae get Aids from a bit ‘o’ cock-gobbling can yer?

Wait a minute Brucey. Mustnae forget this little twerp is a mutant. A powerful one. Can control yer fucking brain he can. Now tha’s a sobering thought. 

“Are ye aware of the laws pertaining tae telepaths in this country Professor Xavier?” 

We sit for a moment, just staring each other down. Xavier’s nose twitches. Like a wee fucking rabbit he is. He finally speaks.

“I believe they are the same as in America. I also believe that in Scottish law, as in American law, there is an allowance for telepathy to be used in the event of preventing harm to others. Since I am _more_ than capable of determining the Sergeant in charge’s order to his men to use force to placate the protestors I believe _that_ would correctly be defined as an event where _prevention of harm_ is applicable.”

His voice is stern. Like he is in one of his fucking lecture halls and trying tae explain a very simple concept tae a bunch ‘o’ retards.

But fuck me if Xavier doesnae ken his shit. Why the fuck did they bring this guy in? That Lennox, what a fucking fool. Ah swear that spastic would leave his cock at home if it wasn’t attached. I spare a glance tae the two way mirror, wondering if Lennox is behind it wetting himself with the knowledge tha he’d done wrong.

“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to make any complaints about my wrongful arrest” I feel something along my hand and realise Xavier is grazing his fingers against mine where they are curled around the edge of his file.

I shiver as I snatch my hand away, glaring at him. He looks unfazed as he continues. “I also know that it is not your fault that my time has been wasted Sergeant Robertson. I believe you have been the unfortunate recipient of miscommunication and I want you to know that I do not hold you accountable.”

Getting affal familiar isn’t he. Thinks he has the upper hand does he? Fuck if ah’m gonnae let tha slide inside ma own fucking interrogation room. Even if the casual confidence that hangs around Xavier, that defiant energy… even if it does slightly send ma blood rushing south like birds in winter.

I lean a bit closer across the table, and Xavier humours me in ducking his head a little in anticipation.

“Ah would accuse you of using your powers tae read mah mind Professor…” I pause and watch as Xavier lips purse together in a smirk. “… if it weren’t for the fact that I _ken_ you can’t. These walls are custom-made tae render any mutant power-less, assists us tae uphold justice ya see?”

I get the exact reaction I wanted. Just as predicted Xavier’s pretty wee face puckers in a frown. The smartarse fucker wasnae even smart enough tae check if his mutey abilities worked this entire time. Ah knew it. The fucker is too complacent in the assumption that he is going tae be the most powerful person in any room at any given time. And ninety-nine percent of the time he’s probably right. Not tonight my friend. Tonight yer in Brucey’s house, and Brucey calls the shots. I lean back in my chair and enjoy the look of shock spreading across Xavier’s face as he lifts two fingers tae his temple.

\---

Well bollocks. That’s a bit of a blow to the ego. He’s right of course. I am completely powerless. I shouldn’t have been so cautious. I had been so careful to hold my telepathy in check around law enforcement unless it was absolutely necessary. If I’d been caught reading their minds… well, that’s a disastrous headache not even worth thinking about. And now I am in this horrible room and I am completely powerless.  I can already feel the anxiety beginning to build, panic instantly manifesting in the form of a lump in my throat. _Calm Xavier_. You need to use your head right now. Who _cares_ if you can’t read the fucking policeman’s mind? They still have nothing on you.

I take a few soothing breaths. It’s hard not to feel it though. Now that I’ve acknowledged it I can’t believe I didn’t notice it. I am so very… _helpless_. 

It also doesn’t help that my interrogator is sitting across from me smiling like the cat who got the cream. It would probably be arousing if it weren’t so infuriating.

“Can I make a phone call please? I believe I have that right. That is, now that we’ve established that I have broken no laws. That _is_ the case is it not Sergeant?”

I feel he needs to be reminded of that, the smug bastard. 

Sergeant Robertson actually laughs. It’s short and barking, and for some reason doesn’t seem quite so sincere. 

“Aye Professor. You can get your phone call. Fuck, since we ain’t go’ nawt tae charge you with you can have as many phone calls ‘s you like” he lays his hands behind his head and just looks at me. It’s ridiculous for me to feel like blushing under the scrutiny. _Damn_ this man.

“Just one will suffice thank you.”

It’s not that I _need_ the call per say. I’d already made the contact that I needed to make as soon as it became apparent that they were going to arrest me. Telepathically of course, halfway around the bloody globe. Bloody hell I’d needed some recovery time after that little transcontinental effort. I guess it’s good that they’d made me wait so long at the police station. It gave enough time for my contact to get his act together and come collect me. It is not in question that I will need to leave Scotland after this very public stunt. I assume he’s taking the jet. He’ll be here any moment. 

No, the call is just a courtesy. To the school. I want them to know that I am ok, that things are under control. Plus, this room and this man with his queerly attractive way about him are becoming stifling.

I wheel myself away from the table and try not to see the look my interrogator gives me as I exit the room.

\---

Well.

Fuck me intae Sundee.

He’s in a fucking wheelchair. 

Poor wee cunt. Mutant, faggoty _and_ spastic. How the fuck didn’t ah notice the fucking chair?!

I find myself rising and following him mutely out of the interrogation room. Why am I no’ surprised tae find a crowd has gathered outside the two-way glass tae watch. Ah see them in there as we pass the door on ma way out. Everyone is staring in ma direction. What is the big fucking deal?! Motherfuckas in this joint are acting crazy tonight.

I dinnae ken why but I followed Xavier right tae the front desk and watched as he politely asked the skirt for the use of the phone. He dinnae look at me the whole time. I dinnae look at him either. Couldn’t look at him. I dinnae ken why tha’ fucking chair makes all the difference, it just does.

Instead I watch as the officers all begin tae trickle out of the watchroom. They are all looking in my direction. Xavier is mumbling away into the phone so I take the opportunity tae corner Lennox.

“You fucking idiot. We’ve go’ nothing on him. Waste ‘o’ bloody polis time. Why the hell did yer need _me_ tae interrogate him anyway?”

Lennox just looks at me with that dumb expression that I’m pretty sure is just his normal face. He then looks over tae Xavier, who is just hanging up the phone, and back tae me. He smiles goofily, shaking his head slightly. “Uncanny. It’s jers fucking uncanny.” I feel like smacking him in the chops but dinnae get the chance because suddenly there is an un-ignorable presence at my hip. 

“Sergeant Robertson, am I free to go now?

\---

“No” the answer comes a bit too quickly, a spike of panic from the man’s mind as he looks down at me.

I know that look. I am used to that look. It hurts a little bit to see that look on that drawn face that just half an hour earlier had been happily playing mind games with me. We had been equals in that interrogation room. It wasn’t the case anymore.

“No” he repeats, his face returning to its professional indifference. “We will still need a statement from you. This way Professor.” He strides away, heading back towards the room we had just come from. 

It’s a little bit ridiculous that even at this time, in this situation, I can _still_ find time to appreciate the Sergeant’s behind and how snugly it fits into his slacks. Even if they _are_ un-ironed.

\---

I lead Xavier back into the room and he takes his place across the table from where I had sat earlier. I remain standing.

The statement thing is bullshit. I dinnae really need it. I just… Ahm no’ ready for this fucker tae leave yet. I dinnae ken what it is. In other circumstances I could probably blame him, accuse him of seducing my mind or some bollocks like that. But I ken that isnae the case. Something about Xavier fascinates me. It isnae just the wheelchair and it isnae just the way everyone once again stared at us as we made our way back into the interrogation room. 

“I recognise you now” I say moving closer, my shadow creeping into the pool of fluorescent light. 

Xavier smiles that pursed smile again. “Yes, the wheelchair is hard to miss isn’t it my friend.”

I was not fond of the feeling the truth of that statement left in my stomach. Nor the sour taste it left in my mouth. I did not want this man thinking I was fucking pitying him. I didn’t pity him. Even if he was a gay-mutey-spastic.

“Actually, when ah’ve heard the media describe the most high-profile telepath in the modern world, words like ‘charming’, ‘handsome’ and ‘powerful’ are the ones thrown around. Not a bad fucking round-up if yer ask me.”

It was true. Nothing about Xavier’s demeanour had changed. Nothing about his looks or his presence was different. He was still just as mind-fuckey as he was when I first walked into this room to find him already seated at the table with that calm, polite, _infuriating_ attitude painted all over his face.

And so what if he doesnae have the use of his legs. Its really quite a convenient height tae be at fer certain things now I think about it. And doesnae that just mean I could fuck him all night and he wouldnae have one complaint? Not that I want tae fuck him. Just that I could if I wanted tae. Be a nice trait tae have in a wee lass. They’re always complaining I’m too rough. I’m sure Xavier could take it though. If that’s what I wanted. Which I dinnae. I think.

\---

The Sergeant is now leaning on the table next to me. 

His complimentary words put me slightly more at ease. I smile. “Don’t believe everything you see on TV.” 

The man husks out a laugh, his head leaning back as he stares at the ceiling. It sounds sincere this time and I am drawn to the shadow the light casts across his throat. His stubble is ginger and accentuates the cut of his jaw beautifully. 

Then he is looking at me and I feel my pulse quicken.

“That may be true, but now that I have you here in front of me…” he’s raising his hand and—

\---

I’m reaching out and I’m touching him. I dinnae even ken why I’m daeing it. Something about wanting tae feel the flush that is spreading through those cheeks. He’s just staring at me with those big fucking eyes and his mouth parts slightly as my fingers graze against his heated skin.

The small noise that escapes between those lips should be illegal. It goes straight tae ma groin and really, this moment shouldnae be so fucking tender. 

Xavier’s eyes slip closed as I just run my thumb along his cheekbone a little bit. His hands are in my lap sliding up over my thighs and gripping just a little. His fingers are sturdy, strong, _insistent_. I want tae lean forward. I…. I dinnae ken what I wanna do….

Something outside of me takes the decision out of my hands though as I hear the first muffled crash from outside through the walls. 

Another one, this time accompanied by squawks and raised voices. The next crash sounds like it is right outside the door. A thunk, followed by a small click, and suddenly the solid door is being flung open and a man is standing in the threshold.

He is tall and wiry and has a picture of unparalleled rage painted across his face as he breathes heavily.

There is still yelling coming from behind the man but all I take notice of is the small sigh and the pressure against my legs as Xavier pushes himself away from me and rolls back a piece. 

“Erik… always with the grand entrances.”

Is it just me or does he look a wee bit sheepish as he glances back at me, more pointedly at where my hand is still hanging in mid-air from where his face had been just seconds earlier. I lower it quickly.

\---

Erik only has eyes for me. I guess that is usual, but right now I don’t really appreciate the look of perturbedness he is directing at me. Though I guess he _did_ just walk in on me getting rather cosy with my new friend. He hates me getting friendly with… well anyone that is not him really. And he says _I_ act like a child.

He ignores Sergeant Robertson as he moves into the room.

“They tell me they can’t charge you with anything. Come Charles, let’s go.”

I may take a little more delight then is necessary when his gesture to move the metal in my chair doesn’t work. It’s not often that Erik is caught off guard.

“That’s right Erik. They can’t charge me, but Sergeant Robertson here still needs my statement.”

Again Erik doesn’t even spare a glance for the other man in the room. 

“If he hasn’t got it in the four hours it took me to get here, then that’s just incompetency on the behalf of the Scottish police force and not our damn problem. Let’s _go_ Charles.”

I don’t need my telepathic abilities to know what anxiety looks like on Erik’s face. He’s just as uncomfortable not being able to use his powers as I am. As I was. Are we really so fragile?

“Who the _fuck_ do yer think yer are talking about the Scottish force like tha! Better apologise quick smart _boy_ before I kick you intae Sundee!”

I look to see that Sergeant Robertson is standing now. He is angry. Oh my. I think I like him even better when he is angry. All hard lines and controlled confidence in his authority and abilities. I guess I always _have_ had a thing for men with commanding presences.

I swivel my head around to see what Erik’s reaction will be just in time to witness him first laying eyes on my interrogator. 

A number of things happen then in quick succession. Firstly, Erik’s eyes widen further than I have ever seen them do previously. Secondly, it seems that his legs spasm because he has to grab the empty chair that is still sitting at the ignored interrogation table to steady himself. Then his eyes appear to do a little dance back and forth between Sergeant Robertson and myself. His face pales as his gaze finally settles on me and he looks quite confused as he grabs the arms of my chair to lean down face-to-face with me.

“What game is this Charles? Why are you doing it?!” he grates in his most serious tone.

I look back at him quizzically. “What? I’m not _doing_ anything.”

I can hear Sergeant Robertson spelling out warnings for Erik to _“back off”_ in the background as I study his face. He is furrowing his brow and he almost looks hurt. This confuses me even further.

“Erik…” I continue gently, “I’m truly not doing anything. I can’t use my powers in here, same as you.”

The man who is closer to me than anything in this world just stares at me for a few more seconds. Obviously trying to deduce whether I am lying or not. 

Then he is leaning away. He is rubbing a hand over his handsome face, he is even huffing out a laugh. Now that _really_ has me worrying.

“You really don’t see it do you?” he directs this question at both me and the Sergeant. I can feel Robertson looking at me in confusion, probably seeking some sort of explanation for Erik's odd behaviour. I don’t have one to give him as I look to him apologetically.

“Oh Charles…” Erik continues to snigger as he reaches forward and unceremoniously swings my chair around to face the wall. No, not the wall, the _mirror_. The two-way mirror that I have been trying to ignore for the entirety of my time in this awful room.

There I am, there is Erik behind me and there is Sergeant Robert— oh!

\---

Well… fuck me!

There ain’t really any other words fah it. 

Suddenly the reason everyone had been looking at us strange seems very obvious.

Shit. Xavier could be ma brutha or somethin’. Fuck he could be _me_. Ya know, if he weren’t so poofy-looking and could stand up and shit.

We’re looking at each other through our reflections. Blue eyes connecting in widened surprise. His healthy skin blossoming into a blush that I’m sure my pallor has _never_ done. 

Right about then I remember that I had fantasised about this bloody clone sucking ma cock. _Phwoar_ that would make a good porno – for all the retards out there with the incestuous kink. Could be worth some dosh. I wonder if his little faggot boyfriend would allow it? I spare a glance for the guy standing over Xavier like he owns him. He’s staring at me with unclear intent. Something between menacing and… appraising?

I smile to myself, a warm feeling beginning to pool in the bottom of my stomach as my eyes all but start glinting with internal thought. There really only seems to be one way forward with this one.

“Yer a handsome man Professor Xavier…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed. :)


End file.
